


Somewhere on Earth, there's a beautiful view.

by dandelionboys



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Body Swap, Crowley loves deeply and with his whole being, Fluff, God Uses the Scientific Method because She Can, God watches everything happen but mostly the slowest burn to ever burn, M/M, Masturbation could be considered non/con, Sexual Content, Some hurt/comfort, The Ineffable Plan (Good Omens), and he hurts quite a lot for it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-20
Updated: 2019-11-20
Packaged: 2021-02-13 17:45:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,110
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21498034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dandelionboys/pseuds/dandelionboys
Summary: The Ineffable Plan is a lot more effable than you'd think - it's just no one can know, otherwise it wouldn't work.When God gave birth to the universe, it was as much like a bang as it was giving birth - that is, the beginning started out more like a tube of toothpaste being slammed with a sledgehammer and then smeared all over creation. All of it is to answer the age-old question (the oldest one there is), do opposites attract?And here is a demon, and his best friend, an angel, and God is here with a metaphorical pencil to watch it all go down.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 56





	Somewhere on Earth, there's a beautiful view.

**Author's Note:**

> I was throwing together cookies and started telling myself all the versions of how the Good Omen's Universe could have been started with God, which got me imagining God watching Aziraphale and Crowley, and I am a scientist, what can I say. So here's my little creation that started from my cookie baking. Hope you enjoy.  
Not beta'd, we fall like Crowley, poor guy.

The Ineffable Plan is a lot more effable than you'd think - it's just no one can know otherwise it wouldn't work.

When God gave birth to the universe, it was as much like a bang as it was giving birth - that is, the beginning started out more like a tube of toothpaste being slammed with a sledgehammer and then smeared all over creation. God was, above all, very good at being creative. So when the whole Big Bang theory got out, it amused Her a great deal, and She had Her fair share of keeping up with the discourse and arguments being thrown around.

Humans, given intelligence, have been pondering The Beginning since, well, the beginning. She has to credit them for doing their very best as attempting to figure out the Plan of it all, but like the majority of the angels and demons, none are privy to the reason why She started it all.

For lack of a better phrase, the Ineffable Plan is less of a plan, and more of an experiment, which is why the Plan is not a plan. How can you plan an answer if the answer if the result of the experiment itself, and cannot be concluded before it happens? Don't think about it too hard, She insists it's rather simple in the end. (It'll be explained later.)

There is one more thing She needs you to know. When God created Everything, She had nothing. When you have nothing, all you have is yourself. This meaning, as God squeezed and smushed the universe into being, She gave pieces of Herself away. An artist always leaves themselves in their artwork after all. So all that love, the magic of it all, and life and creativity, all of it went into the start of the world. She created, and created, and made new and new and new and new. The more She made, the less She was. And She has no regrets, for while She isn't whole, every piece of the Universe is Her and has love, and light, and imagination, whether they believe it or not. You are, therefore, a little bit of God, and so is your pillow. And your shoe.

Right then. Let's start from The Beginning. Tube of toothpaste, squished, then smeared. Here, we set forth on a long and convoluted mess of time and space to reach the answer to Ineffable Plan: do Opposites attract?

**Hypothesis**: Opposites attract, whether it be inanimate or animate.

**Procedure**: Create the Universe and Angels. Disperse a wide variety of subjects and objects, so there is enough diversity to distinguish "opposites" vs "similar things", including ways of thinking. Let there be conflict.

By now, you may be thinking, isn't this too vague of an experiment? Don't you need to simplify it and focus on specific controlled variables so as to eliminate possible noise? God would commend you on this question, as it is a great question, and the answer is yes, but also no. You see, the more diverse a world you have, the more different things can be, which means the more "opposites" can attract. But She wasn't done with Her Procedure write-up and needs to finish Her thoughts. All the opposite things in the world are necessary and also serve the purpose of keeping God amused while She waits out the Main Subjects of Her experiment, two wholly opposite beings that will come in contact over and over and over again, and hopefully (holy metaphorical fingers crossed) will be attracted.

**Hypothesis**: Opposites attract, whether it be inanimate or animate.

**Procedure**: Create the Universe and Angels. Disperse a wide variety of subjects and objects, so there is enough diversity to distinguish "opposites" vs "similar things", including ways of thinking. Let there be conflict. The creation of Demons (This, She feels was cruel to do, but necessary, unfortunately. She didn’t plan for it to be painful, but it was.), divided from Angels. One angel, who didn’t quite fit in with the rest, a little too hedonistic - far more appreciative of Earthly things than the rest of the group - and one demon, just bad enough to have him work on Earth, but hiding a lot of love in his little body. Have them run into each other, have them be foes. The ultimate enemies to friends to lovers story, in Her opinion, if it ever happens. Continue to set their course and have them encounter each other, and see where that takes the whole thing.

**Materials**: Herself, love, a bit of energy and magic, and Everything Else

**Observations**: To Be Listed.

Observation 1:

Upon first meeting, the spontaneity of their conversation met them eye to eye. They do not know each other enough to know they are different, but perhaps there is a bit of impressed-ness in the demon’s eye. Or maybe not?

Observation 2:

The angel seems hesitant. Unhappy with the demon around, and highly suspicious. He discovered food though, and is extremely pleased with it. Good, because God spent ages trying to design a pomegranate. The demon has gradually been attempting to give him little food gifts once figuring out the angel’s affinity for it.

Observation 3:

The angel has caught on to the gifts. Minor conflict between the two, which resulted in the demon stopping his little acts of kindness, but only to continue in secret, or in a very obvious, pretending-to-be-casual sort of way. The angels appears to accept these far more easily.

Observation 4:

The angel- oh Herself, she might as well just name him already. It’s not as if this is a published report where the subjects remain anonymous - Aziraphale gets absolutely wasted one night, a couple days after discovering wine, followed by the demon, Crowley. Aziraphale does not appear to remember any of that night, or the unexpected confession of exasperated fondness from the demon across from him. Neither does Crowley. God assures you it was extremely out of the blue, but sweet, just a little badly timed. God would also like to include a short excerpt from that conversation.

“Az...Azirfl, I mean, oh Satan, Azirafell, damn, y’r name is not easy. Who th’fuck thoughta that?”

“God. Mmm, yep. Dear uh -” Here, Aziraphale paused and blinked unsteadily at the firepit in front of the two of them. God turned down the temperature a couple degrees, and made the fire more enticing. Set the mood, you know? “Crowley, do you- you think that maybe, whattif? Oh d-dear.” He hiccuped. “D’y’think I could write somethin' too?”

“Fuck yeah!” Crowley pounded his fist on the table, wobbling their jugs with a hoot of laughter “Yeah! Write! Y’amazing, y’know? Satan, I’d, I’d read anythin’y’wrote if it’s from you cause… cause you’re great. And all. All… angelly, and smell nice….” He trailed off, the drunken happiness warping slightly into a contorted look of confusion and like he’d swallowed a sharp chip that got lodged in his throat.

Aziraphale peered at him over his personal (and very empty) jug of wine. “Nice?”

The demon said nothing through a yawn, which set off Aziraphale’s yawn. God watched with Her metaphorically hands underneath Her metaphorical chin, smiling at the two of them nodding off. The angel soon retired to his room above a nearby shop, and the demon to a small home he had come across at the edge of town.

Observation 5:

Having left the angel and demon to their own devices for a while, as She collected data from other subjects, She came back to the two of them having formed an Arrangement, where she noted they shared each other’s work. This was better than She had hoped, as She could only control the assignments that Aziraphale received, not the ones Crowley did, but She did her best to “coincidentally” plop them in the nearby vicinity of one other. She had thought this might lead to more meetings between the two, but never in Her wildest dreams had She thought they might take the chance and just work together. Her hypothesis is looking promising.

Observation 6:

Some opposites do attract. Magnet poles, for instance. Trees born in the ground reach out to the sky in search of light from far, far away from home. Sweet goes very well with spicy, in some cases. 

Observation 7, 8, and 9:

God was lucky to observe the entirely of the very quick happenings that were the Pre-Apocalypse, Apocalypse, and Apoca-did-nots. Warlock was an interesting child to say in the least, but Aziraphale and Crowley got to spend a lot of time together in close quarters, and all for the better. The actual son of Satan, a young boy named Adam, was very intelligent and highly imaginative. (Technically, if it wasn’t already in the plan, She definitely would have fudged the experiment a bit because She had seen the look from Aziraphale at the burning church, and the look from the demon after the very cruel parting comment from the angel. ‘Too fast for him’ Her metaphorical ass. She’ll show the angel. But it would have been too many decades too early.) Speed things up a tad and boom, Apocalypse is coming. Then, kapow, it ain’t happening anymore honey. Your little kind demon man is there to hold your hand along the way and maybe just maybe you’ll kiss after realizing the world isn’t happening and you’re both saved! But alas, it is not to be. She didn’t plan for some of her angels to be so… resentful. Free will, and all that schmuck, but that threw her in a loop. To intervene, or not to intervene. Luckily, the two of them got extremely close, far closer than anticipated, and boy oh boy, talk about an interesting night those two had.

God is delighted to be able to share (in secret) another small piece with you:

Aziraphale, now in Crowley’s body, in Crowley’s flat, surrounded by Crowley’s things, most assuredly does not feel like Crowley. He still feels like himself, but more warped and threaded through a slinkier body. It’s only slightly uncomfortable. Sighing, he sets himself primly on the bedsheets and runs thin fingers over the cover. It’s soft, and warm, and all the more delightful as he presses the rest of his body into it and wiggles under them. He won’t sleep, but Aziraphale imagines Crowley doing so in his place.

Crowley, laying in these sheets. His body, warm, tucked under the thickest part. Does he own pajamas or…? Aziraphale squirms and feels his face heat up. “Somehow, this feels oddly voyeuristic,” he says to the room, in Crowley’s voice. “Oh this is terrible, Crowley doesn’t speak like this! He speaks like… like….” He paused, giving consideration to the situation, and sat up. Across the room, on the far wall, was a mirror. (Was that there, before? God smiles smugly, and shushes you quietly.) His feet pattered quietly over to it, and watched as his-Crowley’s, well, hand shook and took off the sunglasses acting as a barrier to the rest of the world.

“Oh.” Just as stunning as ever, thought Aziraphale. The heat creeping up underneath his skin burned and covered Crowley’s face in the mirror with a fine dusting of red, all the way to his ears. He could - very easily in fact - pretend he was looking at Crowley instead of a mirror. He was alone, or alone as one could be considering God was always watching. (She was). He could…. Couldn’t he? Just...

“Aziraphale.” No that wasn’t right. “Angel.” Yes, a dopey look crossed over Crowley’s face, all heat and love. Aziraphale coughed lightly, but it was more like a choke, and he did his best to copy the odd slant of the serpentine body Crowley had.

Moderately successful. “Like the jacket, angel?” Aziraphale tilted his hips in the mirror and thumbed the edge of the shirt he was wearing. Giddily, he fought back a snicker and leaned forward. “Tell you a secret, angel, the red goes farther down than you’d think. Want to take a look?.”

-

Over in Aziraphale’s body, in the angel’s bookstore, around all of his lovely things, Crowley was having a bit of a crisis.

He was currently situated on the floor, completely frozen and afraid to move and touch more of… more of the angel’s body than necessary. Because if he was going to start touching, Go-Sat…. Someone, he think he’d just discorporate. Or worse, embarrass himself and have to avoid the angel for the rest of eternity. The angel’s body was neutral to the internal freakout of the demon, and simply growled with hunger. Crowley, wearing Aziraphale’s face, scowled at the small stab in his gut, reminding him that he really should just get up and get a small bite of… oh maybe, say, croissant, or tiramisu, or a nice fondue from that new restaurant across London. Crowley’s mouth watered. He’d never been so interested in food before.

It was just enough of a motivation to get him to sit up and shuffle over to the fridge in search of edible goods. Luckily there was a plate of cheese and fruit to be had, which would pair nicely with the wine that Crowley knew Aziraphale had stashed years ago.

As he chewed, Crowley crossed his legs. Then promptly doubled over, sputtering and growing steadily redder and redder, throwing his legs open deliberately.

“Angel, who the fuck told you that you could pack something that big down there?!” Crowley was near screaming in his mind. How did it even fit? Oh someone, he wasn’t wearing any… any boxers. Or briefs. Or…. or anything. Crowley shook in his seat, hunched over and attempting his best to Not Look at the steadily growing beast in his- Aziraphale’s trousers. Alarming as it is to find out that your best friend/angel-you're-desperately-in-love-with has the biggest dick you’ve seen in years, it is also very, very hot. There is no possible way you can blame Crowley for staggering over to the small bathroom’s shower, staring unblinkingly in the sink’s mirror. The Aziraphale in the mirror looked at Crowley with wide eyes, blown pupils nearly eclipsing the blue irises, mouth opening hoarsely with flushed lips. “My dear,” Crowley’s hands gripped the sink, “you’re beautiful.” He watched as Aziraphale’s face blurred through watering eyes, and looked down. “Fuck, fuck this is… this is so. Shit. Why not.”

He glanced up and steeled his face, turning on his Aziraphale impression. “My dear, take me to lunch?,” the Aziraphale smiled coyly and Crowley internally replied with a resounding Yes, followed with streamers and bands and shouting. “It’s a date. Hmm, then perhaps, you’ll stay the evening?” Crowley side-eyed the mirror, but the lidded eyes of Aziraphale caught him, and he felt as though someone definitely had turned the temperature up in there.

The heat blazing in his bottom half was definitely not going away, suffice to say. Crowley brought his hands up, digging them in the soft hair upon his head, and stilled. “Crowley, my dear. Do you love me?” I do, I do, someone knows I do. It felt… sinful, tempting almost, as Crowley knows best what that’s like. Knowing you can’t have what you want, but it’s so close to touch, you could just reach out and do it…

He was powerless against it.

“My dear…. I love you.” Aziraphale in the mirror spoke softly, voice bouncing off the short walls. Crowley’s heart hurt.

So did his dick, but mostly his heart.

It was ridiculously easy to shove his hand down the front of his pants and follow through with all that love and desire.

Observation 10:

The world did not end, which was as intended, which brought the angel and demon closer together, also as intended. The only minor problem, which was a thorn in Her metaphorical side, was that now the two would seriously not even slightly just look at each other! Only when the other wasn’t looking! God is patient, yes, but a slow burn of all slow burns, has burned her out, and She is Ready For This To Happen. Please. With a bit of care, She miracles up a small cottage away from town, with built in bookshelves and a large greenhouse/observatory space. The home is loved and cared for by an elderly couple that moves in, who soon find themselves wanting to be closer to their grandchildren, and promptly moves out as soon as a man in dark clothing and sunglasses knocks on the door and asks them if the house is for sale. It is now.

Crowley does not present this home to Aziraphale immediately, but instead takes his time making small decorations and nervously flittering about nudging frames this way and that. After a year watching the two from afar dance around each other (having finally met each other’s eyes four months after the not-Apocalypse), she sends a package anonymously to Aziraphale’s doorstep. Aziraphale picks it up, easily thinking it’s from Crowley, as it is adorned in black wrapping paper, and carefully tears it open. The small box contains a set of keys, a pamphlet on nearby attractions in the South Downs, and a newspaper cutting with a small picture circled of a lovely house. Aziraphale smiles brightly. Boxes of first editions are packed up cheerfully, very quickly, and miracled to the house’s back entrance, with a small break for tea.

When Aziraphale arrives at the end of the day, nearly everything from his bookstore is already packed and inside the house, and the keys jingle as he unlocks the front door.

“Oh my!” The first step in the home causes him to stumble, as being an angel, he can feel love, and oh how much love there is. “Crowley? Are you there?”

He isn’t bothered by the lack of response, as he’s sure Crowley will arrive shortly. In the meantime, he’ll spend some time unpacking and sorting his books onto the beautiful wooden shelves. God observes the angel puttering about, placing books on certain shelves and others on other horizontal surfaces. She has never figured out his strategy, and doubts She ever will. Well, some secrets will stay secrets.

After two days, Aziraphale finally notices that he hasn’t seen a spot of his demon yet, and seeks him out instead of waiting. He’s dreadfully nervous, and hopes that Crowley won’t mind that he’s taken liberties with some of the decorations and added his own. Crowley has always has a specific taste in decor, completely opposite his own, but maybe he won’t mind? He rings the bell for Crowley’s flat and waits at the door. It’s not long before he hears shuffling and a bleary eyed demon wrenches open the door with a widemouthed yawn, somehow leaning half his body on the frame and jutting out the other half like he’s sprawled on a bent couch.

“Aziraphale? What brings you here? It’s… ” He glances at his watch. “the afternoon, I suppose. Slept later than I thought.”

Aziraphale’s pulse sped up a little, and his hands twitched together. “I hope you don’t mind, but I rearranged some of the things on the walls and added a few of my own from the store? I also moved in my books, as I was assuming the shelves were for all those… If you don’t like any of it there, you can of course move it! I mean -”

“Woah, hold up angel. What are you talking about?”

The puzzled expression on Aziraphale’s face rivaled his own. “Crowley, I mean the bookshelves in the living room? In the house? You know my dear, since you have a greenhouse and all, I thought the shelves were for me. Ah, perhaps I shouldn’t have assumed even if they were empty. I apologize.”  
Halfway through the small rant, Crowley’s face had done an interesting twitch, then looked like he was staring at incoming doom personified, and finally settled on catastrophic panic. “What? What, the house? You mean South Downs house? Wait, how did you… how did you even know it existed?”

“You gave me keys, Crowley.”

“I...gave you keys?”

Aziraphale nodded surely. “In the package you sent the other day with the pamphlet with all the nice museums and restaurants. It was very kind of you.” He paused, and seemingly started picking up on the demon’s panic, spoke quickly and with an increasing pitch. “You did send that package to me, right? Oh dear, I’m so sorry, I just assumed it was for the both of us! I’m such a fool, please forgive me!”

Crowley looked like he was having half falling over himself as he flailed his hands between them, “No, no! It’s definitely for the both of us! I just haven’t given you your keys yet! I didn’t know how to ask and they’re sitting on the kitchen table and there’s nothing to forgive, you’re fine, I’m sorry!”

Both shook quietly as their adrenaline waned off. “Crowley, so the house was for the two of us?”

“Yeah…”

“But you didn’t give me the keys yet.”

“No. I uh… couldn’t.”

Aziraphale looked at Crowley’s hands which twitched at the attention, tangled up as they were in Crowley’s pockets. “Then who gave me the keys?”

God, at that moment, did a metaphorical fist bump and congratulated Herself.

They both swallowed and looked at each other. “So uh, you moved in then?” Crowley internally cringed at the loss of his smoothness. He was supposed to be all sexy and suave, not fumbling through a conversation like this.

“...I did, yes. I hope you don’t mind.”

“Nah, you’re fine angel.” He paused, then considered, “What did you add to the walls? They were pretty full already.”

The angel beamed, and motioned Crowley to follow him. Their conversation continued to their home, now showing touches of the both of them, and carried on into the evening even as it changed subjects. God was pleased to note that the awkward keygiving faded from their minds as they got comfortable, and had a bit of a bite to eat and a lot to drink.

As the daylight grew faint and cast shadows through the green plantlife in the observatory, the angel and demon lounged in comfortable silence and sipped wine. The stars would be beautiful, that night. But Crowley was hurting, so close yet so far, and so full of love he felt like his life was ending. He couldn't help but speak up. He just hoped it wouldn't be the end of it all.

“Angel?”

Aziraphale hummed.

“...Do you ever want anything to be different?”

“What do you mean?”

Crowley stared up at the stars, counting the ones he had made all those years ago as an angel. He could have been the same as Aziraphale. He could’ve been still adorned in white.

“Do you wish I were an angel?”

This, Crowley could not have guessed, caused a violent outburst from Aziraphale, only slightly bolstered by the warmth in his veins. “No!” Aziraphale lurched out from his seat and grabbed at the demon’s wrists, pale skin against his pink. “Crowley, you are perfect as you are.”

Crowley could feel his face start to flame at the touch and the words, too kind. But he couldn’t resist. “No? No, I could have been…”

Aziraphale’s hand trailed up his arm and rested upon his cheek, mirroring heat for heat, and the look in his eyes was pained, soft. “My dear, no. I’m so sorry to have kept you waiting, but I love you as you are. You are my Anthony, my demon. I’d want no one else.” His fingers were bare, shaking on Crowley’s cheeks and carefully tugged off his glasses. “You have the most beautiful eyes, my dear. Have I ever told you that?”

By the time Crowley had grappled with Aziraphale’s collar and tugged him close, his tears were freefalling between them. Aziraphale felt the hitched sob that was pressed against his lips, and held the demon through the crying that wracked him. “Oh my dear, my dear I’m so sorry to make you wait so long. You deserve happiness, and all that is good in the world. Let me do my best to give that to you.” Crowley cried, and Aziraphale clutched him closer as the stars started to peek through the clouds and go through the night. And it was beautiful, you’d say.

  
  


**Conclusion**: They fell in love, slowly, caringly, sweetly. They loved each other’s differences, and loved their sameness. Opposites, in this case, but not all, do attract. Somewhere on Earth, with all that is God, an Angel loves a Demon, and a Demon loves an Angel…

And life, as it does, continues on beautifully.

**Author's Note:**

> We read a lot of fanfiction with characters in love, I feel like. It's like a bit of a taste of what it could be like, if someone loved us as much as Crowley did Aziraphale, or Aziraphale did Crowley.
> 
> If you feel like you aren't good enough to love, aren't beautiful or handsome enough, if you feel alone... I know you're wrong. Even if you doubt yourself, I know that you are good. You are kind. You are deserving, and I do not want you to be alone. I want you to be here, on Earth with me.
> 
> All the kindness you have given to others, let me have the chance to give it back to you. You have given so much, let yourself rest and be kind to yourself. Even if it hurts right now, love it in the ways that you can. Be here with me.  
If you ever need to talk, my ask is open, don't even hesitate for a second if you feel like you need a friend with you.  
throughoutthestars.tumblr.com/ask


End file.
